


Black Magic Winchester

by ApolloLoki97



Series: A Season, A Story: Collection of Fics for each Season of Supernatural [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is a tired older brother, Gen, Hunting Fic, SPN - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, bobby is a good dad, motw, season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22727038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApolloLoki97/pseuds/ApolloLoki97
Summary: Set during Season Two, after "Folsom Prison Blues", the boys get a call from Bobby asking for help on a missing persons case. What they think to be a simple monster hunt turns out to be much darker than the hunters anticipated. With Sam still reeling from his visions and Dean having no idea how to help his little brother, how will they handle tracking down the darkness that has appeared in Sioux Falls?------Or when Bobby needs help on a case and his boys are there to help.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Series: A Season, A Story: Collection of Fics for each Season of Supernatural [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563664
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: All rights to Mister Erike Kripke and the blessed people who have created the world of SPN.
> 
> Second story coming at you! This one is a bit longer than the first and is a bit different.

The shrill ringing of Sam’s phone woke the Winchesters from their very much needed sleep.

Dean woke up first, startled, his hand instantly going for the gun he kept under his pillow. After a moment, his senses came back to him. Groaning, he grabbed a pillow and threw it at his groggy brother. “Sammy,” he whined, “phone.” 

Sam rolled over, blindly reaching for his cellphone on the bedside table. Ignoring his grumbling brother, Sam peered at the small screen. “It’s Bobby,” Sam yawned as he accepted the call. “Hey, Bobby, what’s up?”

“Are you with your brother?” Bobby Singer asked. Sam frowned at the question. 

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” he asked. 

“Just making sure,” Bobby said. “Can you two meet me at mine? Need your help on somethin’.”

“Is everything okay?” Sam asked, suddenly concerned. Dean, noting the tone in his brother’s voice, rolled over, his brows pulled together. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked Sam who held up his hand, telling Dean to wait. 

“Bobby?” Sam asked. 

“Everything is fine, just get your asses over here,” Bobby told him. The call ended and Sam looked at the phone in confusion. Dean raised his brows, waiting. Sam shrugged. 

“Said he needs us on something,” Sam explained. 

“Did he sound hurt? Or worried?” Dean asked. 

“Not really,” Sam told him, “he sounded a bit...mad?” Dean sighed, sitting up in his bed. 

“So, he sounded like Bobby?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” 

“Well, come on, let’s see what the grumpy old man wants.”

* * *

When the Impala rolled into the salvage yard, Sam and Dean kept their eyes open, looking for any signs of distress, but Bobby’s place looked exactly how they left it the last time they visited. 

“Do you think this has to do with The Demon?” Sam asked as he climbed out of the car. 

“If it was, he would have told you on the phone,” Dean pointed out. 

“Maybe he didn’t want to. You know, in case the demon was listening,” Sam offered. Dean rolled his eyes at his brother. 

“So, demons are wire-tapping now? Sometimes I wonder about you, Sam,” Dean said as he jogged up the steps to the main house. Dean knocked on the door, “Bobby?” There was no answer. Dean glanced at Sam who shrugged and together they pushed into the house. The disheveled Singer house was covered in books, scrolls, weapons, and anything else a wayward hunter would need. The boys loved it, both for different reasons, but still, it was the only home they had at the moment. 

“Bobby!” Sam called as they passed by the main room and into the kitchen, but there was still no sign of Singer. 

“What? Did he decide to take a vacation last minute?” Dean asked, staring at the empty room. 

“How am I supposed to take a vacation when I constantly have to look after you two?” Sam and Dean turned at the sound of Bobby’s voice. The older man stood in the doorway behind them, holding a journal in his hands, a scowl on his face. 

“Oh, hey Bobby,” Dean greeted with a smile. “You good?” Bobby narrowed his eyes at the older Winchester and that had Dean dropping his smile instantly and glancing at his brother who lightly shrugged. 

“Am I  _ good?”  _ Bobby asked slowly. Then, he took a few steps forward, raised the journal, and smacked Dean in the back of the head with it. 

“Hey!” Dean exclaimed as Bobby turned to Sam and did the same thing. 

“Prison!” Bobby yelled. “You decided to get yourselves incarcerated? I swear the two of you are going to send me to an early grave!” Rubbing the back of his head, Sam went to explain when Bobby raised his finger to him. “No, you’re going to listen for a minute. What the hell were you two thinking? You are the most wanted men in the country right now. Not to mention the fact that the feds still think Dean is some kind of psycho killer and as for Sam, well they just think Sam is straight-up crazy.”

“What?” Sam asked and Bobby glared at him. Sam shut up again.

“We take precautions, boys, so that this  _ doesn’t happen,  _ and then you two just willingly get yourselves thrown in jail? Are you stupid?” Sam and Dean were silent, glancing at each other. “You can speak now.” Sam nudged Dean. 

“It was a job, Bobby. We owed Deacon and he needed help. Crazy ghost nurse, dead inmates, and the chance to screw with the system? I liked our odds,” Dean explained. 

“I hated our odds,” Sam grumbled. 

“Prison life didn’t agree with Sammy,” said Dean. “I, however, didn’t do so bad.”

“That isn’t something to be proud of,” Bobby said, throwing down the journal on the counter. 

“Come on, Bobby,” Dean continued, “there was a job and people were being killed. What were we supposed to do?”

“You pass it along to someone else! You two, the most wanted hunters in the country, don’t go into a maximum-security prison just to take out one spirit!”

“Why are you jumping down our throats about this?” Dean asked. “This is the job!”

“Because you were reckless! So many things could have gone wrong, Dean! What if the escape plan didn’t work? What if Henriksen had figured a way out to transfer you sooner? This was your dumbest plan yet!”

“That’s what I said,” Sam put in. 

“Shut it,” Bobby shot back, “I’m angry with you too.”

“Bobby,” Dean said a bit softer, “everything worked out the way it was supposed to. We got the spook, saved some lives, and got the FBI off our tail for now. I would say that while it was risky, the risk was worth it.”

“It was still moronic and reckless,” Bobby lectured, “Your daddy raised you and taught you not to be stupid and I know that  _ I  _ taught you better too.” Realization lit up in Dean’s eyes.

“You’re not mad,” Dean said, “you were worried.”

“Of course I was worried,” Bobby said, “I’m a good hunter, boys, but if they took you away to some offshore black site… How was I supposed to be able to find you? You’re my responsibility now and your recklessness ain’t making it easy on my ticker.”

“Bobby,” Sam began, “you don’t need to look after us, we’re not kids anymore.”

“Like hell, I don’t, boy,” Bobby said. “You’re stuck with me, you and your dumbass brother.”

“Hey!” exclaimed Dean. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” said Bobby, “I know this was your plan.” Dean shrugged in defeat. “Just, promise me that if you’re going to do something utterly ridiculous and idiotic, you’ll call me first.” There was a beat of silence before Sam nodded. 

“We promise,” Sam said. 

“Yeah, promise,” Dean agreed. Bobby let out a breath, nodding.

“Okay, good. I’m going to hold that promise to you boys.” 

“Yes, Sir,” Sam said with a smile. 

“So, is that why you called us?” Dean asked, “To give us a lecture?”

“Partly,” Bobby said, “but I was serious when I said I needed your help on somethin’.” Bobby led them into the main room. Going over to the desk, he picked up a folder and handed it to Sam. It was a Sioux Falls police file. 

“Where did you get this?” Sam asked, opening it. 

“You’re not the only one who knows how to pick a lock, Sam,” Bobby deadpanned. 

“Fair enough.” 

“What is it?” Dean asked as Sam angled the file for Dean to read. 

“We’ve had hikers gone missing in the past couple of weeks. Hikers disappearing isn’t exactly odd around these parts except for the fact that all these people are seasoned. They know what paths to take in which season, where the rangers stations are, everything. They wouldn’t just get lost and not show up again,” Bobby explained. 

“When did the last one go missing?” Sam asked. 

“He was reported missing by his daughter yesterday morning. Cops have nothing as usual, but they don’t know what we know,” said Bobby. 

“Theories?” Dean asked. 

“A few, but they haven’t found any bodies yet so I can’t be sure of anything, but I would rule out demons,” Bobby said.

“No omens then?” asked Sam. 

“None, just four hikers gone and a whole lot of confused cops.” 

“Have they organized searches for the hikers?” Dean asked, looking over one of the missing person reports. 

“They had one for the first and planned for the second, but once the fourth one went missing, cops are keeping the trails clear of civilians,” Bobby explained. “Probably think it’s some rabid animal or a maniac taking people.”

“What’s the moon cycle like?” asked Sam.

“Not wolves, already checked,” said Bobby. “Besides, when wolves eat, they just take the heart and leave the rest. If this were werewolves, we would have found the bodies by now.”

“Yay for leftovers,” Dean muttered. “Okay, so not wolves, not demons, what else are you thinking?”

“Well,” began Bobby as he leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. “Another reason I called the two of you. You’ve taken on vamps before, right? Your daddy taught you how to kill them?”

“Yeah, we helped take out a nest with him when we went to find the colt the first time,” Sam said. 

“You think a vampire is doing this?” Dean asked.

“No bodies, no blood,” Bobby recounted, “either it’s taking them to eat later or it’s building a nest.” 

“And if it’s not vampires?” Sam asked. 

“Then my other bet is witches or vengeful spirit,” Bobby finished. 

“Could this also just be a maniac?” Dean offered.

“Humans are sloppy as you should know,” Bobby said with a pointed look at Dean who frowned. “So, no, I do not think this is some serial killer trying to rid Sioux Falls from their regular rock climbers.” Dean and Bobby stared at each other, gauging the other’s expression. Sam looked between the two before clearing his throat. 

“Well, I say that we hit the research and see if anyone has died mysteriously on the trails in recent history,” Sam said, “That way we can rule out a spirit. If nothing comes of it, we will head out to the forest tomorrow and look for signs of vamps or witchcraft. Fair?” 

“Sounds good to me,” Dean said, picking up a random book and slouching into the couch across the room. Sam hiked his laptop bag higher on his shoulder. 

“He does realize that a book on the history of fertility sigils won’t help him with this, right?” Bobby whispered to Sam. 

“I’m just glad he picked up a book for once.” finished Sam.

* * *

The three hunters combed through the town’s archives all night. 

Bobby had acquired many articles and files since living in Sioux Falls and Sam was using every source he could find on his laptop, looking for any suspicious deaths in the area involving hikers. Dean was sipping coffee as he read through newspaper articles, marking the deaths he deemed important. 

Halfway through the night, Sam had drifted off, his laptop forgotten next to him on the floor. Dean got up and slung a blanket over his little brother’s snoozing form before going back to his work next to Bobby.

Any chance Dean caught Sam sleeping, he relished in it. The kid barely slept anymore. He was always worried about seeing a vision and stressing over it. The Demon had said he had plans for Sam and others like him and Dean had become so accustomed to protecting Sam from anything life had thrown at them, he hated seeing his brother in so much pain.

While he had been angry when Sam left him and their dad, he knew Sam was safer at school. However, even that proved to not be worth anything. Jess was gone and Sam was faced with evil every day. John’s words ran through Dean’s head all the time. How was he supposed to fight the evil that lived in his little brother? He wasn’t even sure if what dwelled inside Sam was as powerful as they originally thought. They fought darkness all the time and this was no different. They would fight this and Dean was determined to keep his brother safe. 

“If you keep staring at him, you’re never going to get any work done,” Bobby said next to Dean. 

“Right,” replied Dean, slowly refocusing back on the task at hand. 

“You _are_ allowed to be worried for him, you know?” 

“I know, I just wish I didn’t have to worry about this,” Dean admitted. “Of all the things, Bobby… How am I supposed to protect him from this?” 

“I don’t know,” Bobby sighed. “Sam is strong, he’s resilient. The two of you have been through a lot in your lives. You will get through this. Besides, I’m right here with you.” Dean ran a hand over his face and turned to look at the man who was like family to him. 

“Thanks, Bobby,” Dean said. “I don’t know what I would do if…” he trailed off, trying to find his words. “After my dad, it’s been hard to imagine having anyone else but Sam, but now I know I can still count you in to help clean up our messes.” Bobby smiled, grabbing Dean’s shoulder. 

“Hell, you help me clean up mine from time to time. That’s what family does, boy,” Bobby said, dropping his hand. “Look at him,” he said, turning to the younger Winchester, “he’s okay. He’s safe right now. Nothing cataclysmic is happening. Just focus on one day at a time. Right now we have a job to do. Once we solve this mystery, we’ll work on Sam’s, okay?”

Dean took a deep breath and then let it out. He nodded to Bobby and picked up his work again as he listened to Sam’s even breaths.

* * *

The following day, Sam needed a break.

By the time he had woken up, Dean and Bobby were both in the kitchen, drinking coffee. Sam figured that the two of them maybe only had a few hours of sleep and even after the many hours he got himself, he still felt exhausted. 

Sam wandered the salvage yard, kicking at stray bolts and loose rocks that littered the gravel. So far, they hadn’t got much from the articles. Also, there was no indication that a nest had been in the area before. If it was vampires, it was a very new situation. One that they would need to handle quickly before it managed to create more of its kind and endanger more of the lives of Sioux Falls.

Leaning against a gutted Mustang, Sam let the sun warm his face, listening to the morning around him, trying to organize his thoughts. He had many theories on what was taking the hikers, but they all included ghosts. Perhaps he was just wishing it was spooks because they were easy. To the Winchesters, it was always a good day when a hunt was predictable.

“Thinking about getting a tan?” Sam turned to find Dean walking towards him. 

“Yeah, I was thinking I was looking a little pale,” Sam joked. 

“Yeah, you should get out more,” teased Dean as he joined his brother on the hood of the Mustang. “So, is that brain working overtime or are you out here to enjoy the sunshine?” 

“I was thinking spirits, but I don’t know. I could be wrong,” Sam admitted. “Did you find anything?” 

“Just, that a bunch of hikers did happen to disappear in a nearby town around thirty years ago. Similar to what’s happening here,” said Dean.

“Did they ever find them?” asked Sam. Dean shook his head. 

“Nope. They all just vanished. A couple of kids found one of the backpacks at the bottom of a ravine, but that’s it. No bodies, no suspects,” Dean explained. 

“So, not ghosts, then,” Sam realized, “Ghosts don’t move from town to town.”

“Not unless they’re attached to something,” Dean pointed out.

“What would they be attached to in a forest?” Sam asked. 

“Okay, fair point,” agreed Dean. “So then I guess we’re back to vamps. Great, just what we need. More fangs.”

“Well if it is vampires, we need to keep this quiet,” Sam warned, “The last thing we need is for Gordon to show up.” Dean made a face of disgust. 

“Yeah, that would not go over well at all…” said Dean remembering the last time they encountered the hunter with an obsession with the undead. “Do you think he’s still mad at me?” 

“You left him tied to a chair after letting a nest of vampires go,” Sam reminded him, “not to mention the punching and the threatening.”

“This is true,” said Dean. “Okay, you have a point. Keep it quiet, just between the three of us. Family hunt?” Sam nodded, “I like it.” They were quiet for a moment before Sam started to laugh. It wasn’t a laugh of joy but realization. One that usually happened at slightly inappropriate times. “What’s wrong with you?” Dean asked, staring at his brother from the corner of his eye. “Are you having a breakdown? Is this finally your psychic breakdown? Do I need to call a doctor?” Sam pushed Dean’s shoulder as he continued to chuckle.

“No, no,” Sam assured him, “I was just thinking about yesterday when Bobby was pissed at us for going into the jail.” 

“And that’s funny?” Dean asked, still confused. Sam nodded. “Dude he smacked us with a journal.”

“Okay, but imagine if Dad was here,” Sam said, “Can you imagine his reaction?”

“No, because he probably wouldn’t even be around to yell at us about it,” Dean said without a second thought. 

“Exactly,” Sam said and then began laughing again, “Or our asses would be in jail and he would probably end up turning it into some life lesson. I can hear his voice in my head. He would say, ‘Boys, this was stupid and do you know what else is stupid? Getting your asses handed to you by the FBI in the first place’,” Sam said in an excellent imitation of John Winchester. Dean joined in on the laughing. 

“And then he would lay out the way he would have done it. Step by step all while having that furrowed brow,” Dean said, his brows pulled together dramatically. “You know, sometimes, you remind me of him,” Dean admitted. 

“Yeah, I know,” Sam said, his laughter dying out. 

“What?” Dean asked, surprised, “ ‘I know’, that’s it? You’re not going to jump down my throat for comparing you to Dad?” Sam shook his head. 

“No, I’m not. I’ve accepted that he and I...we had more in common than I used to want to admit,” Sam said, staring down at his feet.

“Well then,” Dean said, clearly surprised at this revelation, “You know what that is, Sammy?” Sam glanced at Dean. “Growth, Sammy, you’ve grown.” Dean laughed again and Sam rolled his eyes. 

“And yet, you’re still a dick.” 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, little brother.” Dean pushed off the car. “Come on, Bobby wants to head into the woods. Maybe we can find something the cops missed.” 

“Right, because the fake police always do better than the real ones?” 

“When monsters are involved, they do,” Dean said, throwing Sam a smile over his shoulder.

* * *

Sam, Dean, and Bobby were crouched at the edge of the main road.

The hiking trails were only a mile or two in, but they had encountered a slight problem. It seemed that the real police were interested in the large expanse of forests much to Dean’s surprise.

“So, the fine men and women of Sioux Falls do care about missing people? That’s...comforting,” he whispered. 

“The sheriff is one hell of a leader,” Bobby said and Dean swore he could hear some praise in his voice. “Though, I heard on the scanner that the presence here is more of a warning. To let people know the risks and all that,” Bobby explained. Dean frowned at the twin patrol cars that lined the entrance to the trails.

“Can’t they mark the trails off? Keep them closed until they figure out what happened to the hikers?” Sam asked. 

“They haven’t found any bodies, Sam,” Bobby reminded him. “Officially, they aren’t missing, dead, or in danger. Police won’t do anything until they have something they can work off of.” 

“Well,” interjected Dean, “we have gone off less and if it’s vampires,” he brandished his machete, “we got some work to do.” 

Keeping out of sight, the three men crept around the officers and entered the thick forest from the Southside. They stayed in the shadows until the sounds of the main road became muffled and indiscernible. They kept their blades ready in their hands and their eyes were constantly scanning their surroundings.

Sam made notes of where they were with his compass and the map he had grabbed from Bobby’s study just in case they got turned around. Occasionally, Sam would hear Dean swear behind him as his older brother tripped of a root or got spooked by a random flying insect and every time it gave Sam just a bit of joy. 

“Are you okay back there?” Sam asked after Dean nearly fell into a large fern. 

“Shut up,” Dean shot back.

“Not a fan of hiking, Dean?” Bobby asked, hiding his smile. 

“Last time we hiked through a forest we were with Ranger Rick and a crazed wendigo so I think I have good reasons,” Dean said, hacking at stray branches.

“Well, I would rather take another wendigo instead of mystery monsters,” Sam said. Dean grunted in response and they continued on. About twenty minutes later, Dean was leading the group while Bobby hung back to talk to Sam. 

“How are you doing, kid?” Bobby asked. 

“I’m fine,” Sam said, already knowing where this was going.

“Dean mentioned you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Dean should worry about his own sleep habits,” Sam grumbled. 

“Is it the visions?” Bobby asked, patient as ever.

“Partly,” Sam admitted. “I just don’t understand them. Sometimes they allow me to save the people I see in them and other times I get there and find out I was too late. What is the point of seeing the future if I can’t change it?”

“Maybe you aren’t supposed to change it,” Bobby offered, “or at least not always. Perhaps these visions of yours are to help you understand the future or even prepare you for it.” Sam looked at Bobby, his brows pulled together in confusion. 

“Prepare me for what? I know death, Bobby.” 

“Do you ever think that the evil you and I know isn’t the greatest out there? If ghosts and demons are as bad as it gets, Sam, then we would have been able to fix this world a long time ago. Whatever or whoever has given you these abilities, maybe they’re trying to let you know that these small deaths are just the beginning.”

“If that were true, it would be a very screwed up life lesson.”

“Things don’t happen without a reason,” Bobby said. 

“I’m not sure I believe that anymore…” Sam said under his breath. 

They hiked for another hour, but there was no sign of monster activity. Their EMF was negative and the only thing with teeth that they encountered was a very angry long-tailed weasel that wasn’t fond of the men stomping through its habitat.

“We’ve got nothing!” Dean exclaimed after they ascended another hill. “No tracks, no bodies, nothing. Are we sure these hikers didn’t just skip town to get away from their families? Maybe the won the lottery?”

“Never figured you for a quitter, Dean,” Bobby said, taking a swig from his water bottle. 

“It’s okay to quit when there is nothing here,” Dean pointed out. “Sam, anything going on in your head?” 

“If you’re asking if I had a miraculous vision of what happened to the missing people, then no Dean, no I haven’t,” Sam said with a roll of his eyes. Dean mirrored his brother’s expression. 

“You could answer the question without the sarcasm,” exasperated Dean.

“Boys…” Bobby warned, ready to play mediator between the Winchester siblings. 

“Not my fault he treats me like monster GPS,” Sam defended. 

“That’s not true!” Dean shot back, “It’s more like you’re one of those daytime fortune-tellers from the TV, but with more accuracy.” Dean smiled smugly. Sam narrowed his eyes.

“You know what your problem is, Dean?” he asked, taking a step towards his brother. 

“No, but I am sure you are about to tell me,” Dean taunted. Sam took another step, opening his mouth to yell when the ground gave way beneath his feet. Dean and Bobby lunged forward as Sam grabbed for anything to hold onto, but it was too late. 

Sam shut his eyes, waiting for the impact when he hit something solid only a couple of feet down. Slowly, he opened his eyes, brushing dirt from his face. “Sam!” he heard Dean yell from above. “You okay?” Sam got to his feet, having to crouch slightly under the low ceiling of what seemed to be a dug-out cave. “Sam!” Dean repeated. 

“I’m fine!” he yelled back. He would have a few bruises, but nothing worse than that. He was just happy he didn’t land on his machete.

“What’s down there?” Bobby called. 

“Some kind of cave!” Sam answered. He reached out to hold the wall for balance on the uneven ground and felt something wet. Sam drew his flashlight and illuminated the space around him. He jumped back from the wall as the light revealed his hand to be covered in blood. He hastily wiped his palm on his jeans, scrubbing the blood from his skin. Sam then noticed that up ahead, the cave opened up wider. He also saw a sliver of light. He drew his phone and dialed Dean’s number, placing the call on speaker. 

“What do you see?” Dean asked as soon as the call connected. 

“Hold on,” Sam said. “I think I see another entrance at the end of this small tunnel.” Sam paced himself as he maneuvered through the small cave. About ten feet in, the ceiling was much taller and the sun was able to shine through in areas. Sam came across another opening in the cave wall. “Okay, there’s a hole in the Eastside, covered in branches. You guys should get down here.” 

“Okay, Sam, wait for us,” Bobby said. 

“It’s okay, I’ll just see what I can find,” Sam said, ignoring them. 

“Sam!” Dean warned, but Sam was already ending the call. Holding his machete in one hand and his light in the other, he pushed further into the cave. Blood was splashed across the floors and while some of it looked fresh, most of it seemed as if it had been there for a while. As Sam moved closer, the air became warm and he had to pull up his shirt to cover his mouth and nose against the smell.

When he finally reached the center of the cave, the air left his lungs. He was frozen as he beheld the horrific sight before him. He didn’t know how long he stood there staring and only snapped out of his trance when he heard footsteps behind him.

“Sam?” Dean called as he approached, Bobby was at his side. At some point in his shock, Sam’s blade had fallen to the cave floor and only his flashlight remained in his tight grip. “Sam?” Dean asked again as he reached out for his brother’s shoulder that was still turned away from him. However, before Dean could make contact, Sam turned to face the other two men.

“This was not vampires,” was all that Sam said. Dean looked at Bobby who peered into the darkness, confused. Dean nudged Bobby and pointed to what looked like a small campfire near the center of the cave. Bobby drew his lighter, ignited it, and tossed into the rotting wood. As firelight filled the space, Dean and Bobby finally saw what had gotten Sam so shocked. Dean nearly gagged at the sight. 

From one end of the cave to the next were human remains in different stages of decomposition. All strung up with thick bloody rope from the ceiling. Symbols were painted in blood along the walls and a devil’s trap had been inked into the floor, also in blood. It was a scene out of a horror film and one they were not prepared for. 

“Dear God,” Dean said, his eyes locked on the carnage. 

“God hasn’t been in this place,” Bobby said. “But I know who has.” Dean and Sam turned to see that Bobby had found multiple backpacks that had been stuffed in a crevice. Bobby removed his hat, clutching it in his fist. They would have to do a more in-depth count, but Sam figured by the number of body parts, these were, in fact, the four missing hikers that Bobby had been looking for. 

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Dean muttered. 

“Well, do it outside,” Bobby said, rising from his crouch by a pack, “these poor souls have been through enough already.”

“What the hell did this?” Sam asked, “Demons?”

“Not with that in here,” Bobby said, pointing to the devil’s trap. “No, this dark, very dark. I’ve seen this symbol before,” he said gesturing to the bloody symbol next to Dean. “This is dark magic from before there was even light magic. I didn’t think things like this even existed anymore. Let alone witches who practiced.”

“So this was witches then? I thought they were all about animal sacrifices and funky herbs?” Dean said, trying to read more of the symbols while keeping his eyes off the severed limbs. 

“There are all kinds of witchcraft in the world, Dean. Some of it is garden spells and good fortune while others are… this is the definition of evil and interrupting the balance of nature. I’m surprised another witch hasn’t stepped in yet.”

“Would that usually happen?” Sam asked, getting his bearings back. Bobby nodded. 

“Most witches are about balance, this is the exact opposite of what many believe in. The witch community is very private. Hunters don’t need to get involved as much because they handle their rogues on their own. Which makes this that much more confusing.”

“So what do we do?” Dean asked. Bobby took another look at the body parts and then took off his pack and hauled out salt and lighter fluid. 

“You know the drill. Let’s put these poor souls to rest and then get the hell out of here. I imagine this witch isn’t going to be too happy that we’ve interrupted their ritual. Whatever ritual that is.” Sam and Dean got to work, salting every human remain as Bobby took the initiative and cut each one down. Once they were salted, they poured the accelerant and let the fire grow throughout the entire cavern.

The three hunters stood outside the cave’s entrance in complete silence as their makeshift funeral burned behind them. It was nearly dusk by the time the flames were just smoldering embers, leaving charred ashes in place of human bone. Bobby left the boys in the open air to make sure the fire was completely out and then they left the damned place behind them, trying to get the horrific images out of their heads.


	2. Chapter 2

They headed back to Bobby’s in a complete and haunted silence. 

Nobody spoke until they were sitting in Bobby’s main room and Dean couldn’t take it any longer. 

“Is anyone else incredibly disturbed?” he asked, still trying to wipe the specks of ash from his clothing. 

“No, Dean, we’re both _ just fine _ ,” Bobby said, sipping from his glass of whiskey. 

“We just poked a very angry bear,” Sam said. His own glass was in his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to drink it. “Whoever did that is going to be pissed when they realize someone torched their torture cave.” 

“Good,” Dean said.

“Did you find anything in Dad’s journal?” Sam asked, shrugging out of his jacket. As soon as they had settled back in the Singer house, Dean began flipping through John Winchester’s journal. However, it proved to be as much help as the previous research they had been doing. 

“If Dad had ever come across magic like this, he never noted it,” Dean sighed. 

“He never mentioned it to me,” Bobby said, “And a part of me is glad none of those infernal symbols made it into your daddy’s book. He had enough to deal with.” 

“You said you saw one the marks before,” Dean said to Bobby. “What exactly are we dealing with?” 

“I can’t be sure of the exact intention, but it has something to do with an offering ritual. An ancient one,” Bobby explained. 

“Offering to what? Pagan gods?” Sam asked.

“Pagan gods want blood, but usually not that much…” Bobby said, clearly still very disturbed from the macabre sight back in the cave. “No, this is something different.”

“Could they be summoning something?” Dean asked. 

“Maybe, but I can’t think of what. It’s not a demon and I doubt it’s any god I know of so that’s just another question we have to answer.”

“Here’s the first question,” Sam interjected, “What do we tell the families of these people?”

“Nothing,” Dean said quickly, “as awful as it is, we have to act as if we didn’t find a bunch of dismembered people in some bat cave. They will have to be considered missing for...well forever.”

“That’s not fair,” Sam said. 

“Nothing about this job is fair, kid,” Bobby told him. “Nobody should face the fate of those hikers and no family member should know that is how their loved one met their end.”

“So we do nothing?”

“We’re gonna get the sons of bitches who did this to them, Sammy,” Dean reassured,  _ “That  _ is what we will do.” Sam nodded, finally picking up his glass and downing the amber liquid quickly. 

“Okay, so where do we start?”

“I called Ellen,” Bobby said, “told her what was going on and she’s going to let us know if she hears anything, but so far she has nothing. However, hunters come and go through the Roadhouse all the time, someone will know something, we just have to be patient.”

“What about those hikers that went missing thirty years ago?” Sam asked, thinking about what Dean had mentioned to him earlier in the day. “Do you think it could be the same people?”

“Witches do tend to live obnoxiously long lives,” Dean pointed out. “Could be the same coven.” 

“And what? They’ve just taken a few decades off of slaughtering innocents?” Sam asked. 

“Certain rituals have cycles,” Bobby informed them, “some of them are yearly others happen over defined amounts of time. We won’t know anything for sure until we figure out who is doing this.”

They were quiet for a moment, all three hunters trying to wrap their minds around their afternoon when Bobby’s police scanner lit up. Bobby reached over and turned the volume up. They got the second half of the message. 

_ “...10-54 out by the south ridge, requesting backup. Suspects possibly still in the area…” _

“10-54, that’s a dead body,” Sam said, looking between Dean and Bobby. “Another hiker?” 

“Probably not,” Dean said, placing his glass down. “I’ll go see what I can find out, you two try to find out what these psychos are up to.”

“Don’t forget your badge,” Sam said as Dean headed out. 

“It’s in the car!” Dean yelled over his shoulder as he slipped out the back door.

“You two have gotten much too comfortable pretending to be FBI,” Bobby said, shaking his head. Sam reached over and picked up his father’s journal, turning it over in his hands. 

“We had a good teacher,” Sam said as he opened open the book and began flipping once again.

* * *

As they waited for Dean to return, Bobby and Sam tried to stay busy, but their thoughts were going a mile a minute. Bobby, especially, had something on his mind.

“You should have waited for us,” Bobby said, sitting down across from Sam at the kitchen table. 

“What?” Sam asked, looking up from his laptop.

“When you fell into the cave, you should have waited for us before you went looking further.”

“Bobby,” Sam sighed, “this isn’t my first job. I know what I’m doing.” 

“It was an unknown situation, Sam, you didn’t know what was waiting for you in there. It was reckless.” 

“I’m a hunter, this is what I do,” Sam reminded him. 

“Doesn’t mean you get to make thoughtless decisions.” 

“Is this still about Green River? I thought we cleared that up?”

“This is about a lot of things,” Bobby defended. “I know you boys are grown and you’re good, but what if something had happened earlier today? Now, I don’t know about you, but I would rather not put another Winchester on a pyre anytime soon.” Sam blinked. He, of course, knew that Bobby cared about him and Dean, but he never realized that John’s death had brought on this protective nature so strongly. Sam wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“I’m not going to die, Bobby. Dean and I are smart, hell, we’re probably smarter than Dad ever was. He taught us well, you taught us well, we can handle this. I may be psychic, but I’m not a complete idiot.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Bobby joked.

“Funny,” Sam deadpanned.

“Just, give me a little leeway, okay?” Sam nodded, gripping Bobby’s shoulder. 

“I’ll do my best.”

“Speaking of being psychic…” Bobby said. 

“We really don’t need to talk about it,” Sam said, nearly pleading. 

“Shouldn’t we be talking about it? I mean, it’s a part of you now, right?” 

“Unfortunately,” Sam said, “Look, I haven’t quite figured it out. It all started as dreams and then they happened during the day and now I see death every time I close my eyes. I just wish I got the full picture for once.”

“Well, I always knew you were special, kid, I just didn’t think it would be this kind of special. Though stranger things have happened and we will deal with this just like any other case and I need you to know that I’m in your corner. Okay?”

“I know you are,” Sam said, shutting his computer. “At least you’re not breathing down my neck like my brother is.”

“Dean does that because he cares,” Bobby reminded him. “You two are the only family y’all have left. Take it for what it is.” 

“That’s not true,” Sam disagreed. “I think we have more family than we think and I suppose its time we start letting them help.” Bobby smiled slightly. 

“I’ll drink to that,” he said, raising his half-empty beer bottle. Their conversation was interrupted by the return of Dean. He entered the kitchen, pulling off his tie, and rolling up his shirtsleeves. 

“How’d it go?” Sam asked.

“Well, it was definitely a revenge killing,” Dean explained. “Park ranger found slaughtered not too far from the ridge. Locals are saying multiple assailants for sure and they don’t have a clue where to start looking. Which means that we now have an even bigger problem.” 

“We knew this was going to happen,” Bobby reminded them. “Though, I was hoping they wouldn’t retaliate so quickly.”

“That just means they get to die sooner,” Dean rationalized. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother just as Bobby’s phone rang. He answered it and then put it on speaker. 

“What do you got, Ellen?” Bobby asked. 

“Hey boys,” Ellen said. “So I asked around about your problem and a hunter from Arkansas said that he heard a story a few years back. Bunch of people went missing all because of a coven of witches that weren’t exactly ordinary.”

“No witch is ordinary,” Dean said. “They’re all crazy with their blood and animal sacrifices.”

“Fair point, Dean,” Ellen said. “But these witches aren’t just into blood oaths and killing cats. This particular coven is rumored to worship not any known gods, but themselves as gods.”

“That’s a bit garish,” Bobby interjected. 

“It gets worse,” Ellen said, “They will sacrifice as many people as they think is appropriate for their chosen one.”

“And the chosen one? Who would that be?” Sam asked. 

“No way to know for sure. I guess you’ll find that out when you find the coven. My guess? It is the one they are keeping close to them. May even have some heavy protection magic around them.”

“Great, so they’re going to be even more of a headache than we thought,” Dean groaned, his hand pressing against his brow.

“Nobody ever said this job was easy, honey,” Ellen said. “Let me know if you three need anything. You know I’m always here.” 

“Thanks, Ellen,” Sam said. Bobby ended the call and faced his boys. 

“So, who’s up for a little hunting?”

* * *

Hunting demons was easy. 

A little holy water, a good exorcism for someone, likely Sam, to memorize, and a whole lot of wisecracking. However, when it came to witches, they had to take more precautions and a whole lot more ammunition.

Bobby handed out protection charms to both of the boys, but they weren’t even sure they would work as they weren’t sure what exactly they were walking in on. Ellen had given them some much-needed information, but still, it was going to be a gamble nonetheless.

As they geared up, Dean was able to acquire more information from the attractive medical examiner in the coroner's office. According to the M.E., the park ranger that was found murdered had symbols carved into his body and after a little bit more convincing, the doctor emailed Dean some photos of the carvings and they were perfect matches for the ones the three hunters had discovered in the caves. 

“Do we need this?” Sam asked, holding up a small pouch with symbols along the top of it.

“If you want to keep your hand, I would put that down, kid,” Bobby said, glancing over his shoulder. Sam dropped the bag back into the trunk he was digging through. 

“Best bet?” Dean said as he walked into the basement holding up his pistol and shotgun, his brows raised. Bobby glanced between the two firearms. 

“Both?” He offered. 

“Both it is!” Dean said with an excited smile. 

“Dean, do you ever think you enjoy this job a little too much?” Sam asked, loading his own weapons. 

“Life is short Samuel, better to have fun rather than treating everything so serious.” Sam scowled at the use of his full name but didn’t comment. He knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Dean was Dean and no amount of persuasion from Sam was going to change that.

“I think we’re as prepared as we’re going to get,” Bobby said. “Just do me a favor and if it goes bad, aim for the head. They can’t hex you if their face is no longer attached to their body.”

“Always so poetic, Bobby,” Dean said. Dean then tossed his sawed-off to his brother who easily caught it. “Alright, gents, let’s go get us some witches.”

* * *

The rumble of the Impala rolled down the back road of the nearby hiking trails. 

Deputies were still surrounding the main entrance and the last thing the hunters wanted was to have to explain why three men clad in flannel carrying shotguns were planning to go on an evening hike where multiple people had disappeared and one was murdered.

Dean parked in the shade of a few overgrown trees and they grabbed their gear. Bobby figured that the cave was not where the witches set up their main coven. Usually, ritual sites were close, but not adjacent to the main home. So, the men headed West, keeping parallel to the ridge that Sam first discovered.

The sun was starting to disappear behind the trees, which was an advantage for them and hopefully not for the ones they hunted. Dean led the way through the rough terrain with Sam in the middle, and Bobby keeping an eye on their six. They didn’t speak, only occasionally did Dean raise his fist, halting the group when he heard something or spotted movement out of the corner of his eye.

About an hour into their hike, Dean pulled them to a stop. He tapped his nose, telling the others he smelled something. It didn’t take long for the other two to realize Dean was smelling fire. They crept a bit further, keeping hidden in the bushes. A few more yards and they found the source. A campfire had been lit outside of an abandoned ranger’s station. The building was overgrown with weeds and most of the wood was rotted, but it would do for a makeshift shelter, or in this case, the main hideout for a coven of witches.

The flames in the fire were still high enough for the hunters to realize the witches were still around. There was no movement outside the station, but Sam could see shadows moving in the windows. Dean turned to Sam and Bobby to formulate a plan when a loud screech echoed from the decrepit building.

“That was a kid,” Dean whispered in horror. They were frozen, trying to figure out what to do next and then they heard the scream again.

They moved. 

Bobby withdrew a flash-bang from his bag and threw it through one of the open windows. They turned their heads just as the station lit up in bright white light. Screams of surprise pierced the air and the hunters moved in. Dean kicked in the door, sending splinters across the room. Sam and Bobby followed, their guns raised.

Chaos ensued immediately. The women inside the station struggled to get their bearings back. Dean went for one of them, pressing his gun to the back of her skull, holding her down. As Dean secured his witch, Sam got a good look at the coven’s home.

The walls were littered with newspaper clippings of disappearances from many years, symbols that were identical to the ones in the cave were painted on the floor, and every witch wore dark dresses that had seen better days.

A witch, one that looked to be much older than the rest, charged Sam, her hands reaching for his eyes and a spell was on her lips. “Stop!” Dean yelled, bringing the room’s attention to him and his hostage. The witch in his arms was younger, but she looked even more feral than the rest of them. “You move or even try a single hex and I’ll blow her brains out,” he threatened. 

Sam raised his own weapon and leveled it at the witch before him. “Where’s the kid?” Sam asks. The witch raised her hand, commanding her coven to stand down. Her wild eyes scanned over the younger Winchester and then a wicked smile spread across her dirt-caked face. 

“I know who you are,” she said, her voice was smooth like honey. “The child that was chosen by the demon. Sam Winchester.” The way she said his name made Sam uneasy. It was almost as if she knew more about him than he knew himself. “You’re supposed to lead us to victory,” she continued. 

“Nobody is leading anything, witch,” Dean interjected. 

“Don’t you want to know who gave you your gifts?” the witch asked, ignoring Dean who still held her sister in a vice. Sam’s brows lowered slightly, but his weapon stayed steady. 

“What do you know?” Sam asked, the mission slowly being forgotten. The witch smiled wider. 

“Sammy, don’t listen to her!” Dean called. 

“You and our savior will lead us to victory!” the witch screamed, gesturing to a dark corner. Sam could now see that tucked away was the source of the cries they had heard earlier. Curled up against the wall was a young girl, maybe around nine-years-old. Sam refocused on the witch before him, but Dean was watching the scared little girl. Her hair was dirty, her clothes too, and it looked as if symbols had been written down her arms in dark ink. Her dark eyes were now on Dean’s and she looked as if she was trying to keep it together for his sake. Dean tightened his grip on the woman in his arms.

“What does the kid have to do with any of this?” Dean asked, drawing the attention away from Sam before the coven could interrogate him further about The Demon. The witch turned to Dean and away from Sam. She stalked towards the older Winchester, examining him with every step.

“Dahlia was chosen,” the witch said. “She will be worshipped by all.” The witch turned to look at the girl with sudden fury, “If she finally accepts her offerings!” The girl, Dahlia, turned her body away from the coven. 

“Those ‘offerings’ were human beings,” Bobby interjected. “Innocent people that you slaughtered!” 

“You kill to make your world a better place, so do I,” the witch told Bobby.

“Let the girl go,” Sam demanded. 

“She is not finished!”

“No, but you are,” Dean interjected, aiming his gun away from his hostage and at the head witch. However, she moved first. The witch threw her arms in a wide arc, sending Bobby and Sam flying across the room. The girl in Dean’s arms jabbed her elbow into his chest, knocking the wind from him. She grabbed a discarded lantern from the floor and threw it at Dean who ducked just in time. As two more witches flanked him, Dean saw Sam across the room struggling to his feet as witches converged on his brother.

* * *

Sam’s chest felt heavy. 

The edges of his vision were blurring and the world seemed to tilt beneath him. Sam clutched at his chest as he struggled to get to his feet. Through his haze, he could see three witches surrounding him, their hands stretched out in front of them as they recited the hex currently invading Sam’s body. 

Sam could feel the magic trying to take him over and when he reached for the gun a couple of feet away, the witches pressed harder. Sam clutched at the sides of his head as the pain intensified, but then a sharp crack echoed through the room and one of the witches attacking Sam went down. 

Sam peered through the chaos to see Dean charging towards his brother, his shotgun in hand. He aimed at the second witch and fired, sending the woman down. Dean reached his brother, grabbing his arm to pull him to his feet. 

“Rock salt,” Dean said, holding up his gun. “Won’t kill them, but it does the job.”

“Thanks,” Sam sighed. Dean nodded and then ran to the other side of the room as Sam grabbed his own shotgun and started to take aim.

Dean cut through the coven, taking out any witch that attempted to hex him, even dodging a few blades. While Sam and Bobby struggled to contain the women behind him, Dean went for the one who stood above Dahlia. He raised his gun, but the witch twisted her hand and Dean’s knees buckled.

“She is not finished!” Dahlia’s guard said, her eyes crazed. “But you will be the final sacrifice.” The witch reached for Dean, drawing a blade from her waist. Dean struggled to call for Sam or Bobby as the hex took hold, but he kept his eyes on the woman, not letting her see him give an inch. The witch raised her knife and then suddenly fell forward as she was hit from behind. 

Dean took a deep breath as the hex was lifted and stared up at a very scared Dahlia who held an old lamp in her hands. Her arms were shaking as she stared down at the witch. Slowly, Dean picked up his gun with his right hand and reached for Dahlia with his left. “Come on,” he whispered to the frightened child. Dahlia dropped the lamp and took Dean’s hand.

Without a second of hesitation, Dean hauled the girl into his arms and she buried her face in his jacket. “Cover your ears!” he told her and she pressed her small hands to the sides of her head. Dean fired indiscriminately at the many coven members who tried to stop him from leaving the ranger’s station. “Sam! Bobby!” he yelled, gaining their attention. 

Both hunters were taking out witches and trying to destroy the ritual symbols at the same time. Clearly, the chaos had made whatever magic the witches were attempting to perform very difficult. Not to mention the fact that Dean was now carrying their self-declared “god” out of the prison they called home.

Dean didn’t have the most experience with hexes or even how to dodge them. Not to mention, the charms that Bobby had given to them were clearly not effective when it came to the ancient blood magic. 

Dahlia clung to Dean, her tiny fingers digging into his jacket. He was trying to focus on too many things at once and it was all becoming muddled, but there was one thing that he was sure of: he was getting this kid out of there.

“Dean, go!” Sam yelled as he pulled out a flash bang from Bobby’s bag. The three hunters were good, but this amount of witches was even too much for them.

Dean ran for the door, shoving his way through debris and witches alike. He wasn’t sure how he managed to break through it all and back into the forest, but soon his booted feet were crushing leaves and the remains of the station that scavengers had decided to pick off over the years. 

Dahlia still had her hands over her ears when Sam and Bobby broke through the door, yanking it closed behind them. Sam held his right arm tight to his chest as he limped towards Dean. Behind the Winchesters, Bobby drew his knife, dragged it across his palm and then scrawled a symbol on the door in his blood just as something slammed into it from the other side.

Bobby ran to the boys, ready to give them an order when a loud  _ boom _ echoed across the forest. The ground shook beneath them and Sam lost his footing, going down on a clearly hurt leg. The air was electrified with magic and through the open windows, cries of pain reached the hunter’s ears.

Then, it was silent. 

“What just happened?” Dean asked, his arms firmly around Dahlia who was crying quietly. 

“They just put themselves in an early grave,” Bobby explained. “The symbol,” he gestured, “makes any spell rebound on the casters.”

“I didn’t think something like that would work on this kind of magic,” Sam said, stretching his leg out in front of him. “These didn’t,” he gestured to the charms. 

“I didn’t think it would work either, but hell, I’m glad it did,” Bobby said. A quiet sniffle alerted the other hunters and it was then that Sam and Bobby finally realized they now had another problem.

Dahlia was clearly not intending to let Dean Winchester go any time soon so he pulled her closer. “We have to get her out of here,” Dean whispered, handing Bobby his shotgun. Bobby was reaching for it when there was suddenly a rustling behind them.

Sam reached for his pistol just as the head witch crawled towards them, her face bloodied and bruised. She was barely alive as she coughed, staring right at Sam.

“Bobby,” was all that Dean said, but Sam raised his hand, telling Singer to stand down. The younger Winchester got to his feet so he could face the woman.

“It’s over,” Sam told her. She smiled up at him with bloody teeth.

“It’s only...beginning,” the witch said, “multiple ends are near, Sam Winchester and you, you are at the center of it.”

Sam raised his gun, but there was no need. After another mouthful of blood, the witch went limp and she was gone. Sam stared at the body, letting her words sink into his mind. 

“Sam?” Dean asked, resting his hand on his brother’s shoulder. Sam was completely still and then, he slowly turned to face his brother. Sam went to speak when his eyes met Dahlia's. He then focused on the symbols painted on the girl and his jaw tightened. 

“We have to get her out of here,” he simply said. Dahlia reached an arm out to Sam who grasped her hand in his for a moment before Dean pulled her away and started to walk away from the ranger station and the ominous warnings of dead witches.

* * *

They reached the car at a slow rate. 

Sam was indeed quite injured. His shoulder was most likely sprained and a witch had gotten a blade into his left leg. Bobby helped him down the trails and back to the car where he dumped the former law student unceremoniously into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean sat in the back with Dahlia, trying to calm her down while Bobby drove.

Sam didn’t listen to anything that Bobby and Dean said. He assumed they were discussing what to do with Dahlia. Sam figured since there was no missing persons report for the young girl, she may have been a neglected foster kid or even given willingly to the coven which didn’t help his rage at the moment. 

He could never catch a break when it came to all of this demon business. The coven had known who he was. Had known his role in whatever the Yellow-Eyed Demon wanted. Sam figured that if he had discovered the murderous witches alone, this evening would have gone much differently. Perhaps he could have even gotten some proper answers rather than theories and vague visions of futures that only promised death and pain. 

Sam let his head rest against the cool window of the car and watched the roads of Sioux Falls pass by. They had gotten the killers, but the families of the victims would never know what happened to their loved ones and that never sat well with Sam. He didn’t think it ever would. 

* * *

Because Sam and Dean were still America’s Most Wanted, Bobby took initiative and drove Dahlia to the police station once they had returned to the Salvage Yard.

It had taken some convincing for Dahlia to let go of Dean’s jacket, but after a short reassuring conversation from Dean, Dahlia reluctantly let go. The tears were still fresh in her eyes as she took Bobby’s hand and went with him.

Dean didn’t waste any time in dragging his brother to the kitchen. “Sit,” he ordered and Sam obeyed, not wanting to argue at the moment. Dean pulled two beers from the fridge as Sam collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs.

Sam immediately took a pull of his beer when Dean handed it to him. As he sipped at his drink, Dean got to work on the leg. He poured rubbing alcohol over the wound causing Sam to wince. 

“Baby,” Dean taunted, gaining a slight kick from Sam. “It’s not deep,” Dean said, examining the knife wound. “You won’t need stitches, just keep a fresh bandage on it.” He tore open the small slit in Sam’s jeans just enough to tape off the wound. “You’ll need new jeans too,” Dean said with a smug smile.

Sam only hummed in response. Dean stood from his crouch and went to Sam’s shoulder, feeling the joint to make sure it wasn’t dislocated. He then dug out a couple of painkillers and handed them to his brother who popped them with another sip of beer. “Sam…” Dean began. 

“Dean, don’t,” Sam said with a deep sigh.

“Don’t tell me not to ask you about it because we both know I never do what you ask,” Dean said as he pulled a bandage from the medical bag Bobby had stashed in his kitchen. He figured there were many emergency bags such as this littered around the Singer house. You had to love hunters. 

“You said it yourself, witches are crazy,” Sam said, biting his cheek as Dean wrapped up his shoulder, pulling on the joint. 

“Some are,” Dean agreed, “but some, unfortunately, do know what they’re talking about. Next to demons they know just about everything going on when it comes to the supernatural.”

“Then why didn’t other witches stop these ones from killing all those people?”

“My guess?” Dean offered, “this coven seemed to be some kind of doomsday prepper type. Hell, they think offering a bunch of chopped up hikers to a kid is the way to protect them from the end times.” 

“Multiple ends,” corrected Sam.

“What?”

“The witch, she said ‘multiple ends’ were coming,” Sam turned to look up at Dean. “You don’t seem too worried about that.” Dean took a sip from his beer.

“I’ll worry when there is something to worry about. I am not going to take some sixth sense warning from a bitch who targets kids,” Dean explained. “And neither should you.” Sam turned away, but Dean wasn’t letting him get off that easy. He pulled out a chair across from his brother and zeroed in on him. “You listen to me, Sam,” he began, “we’ve been dealt bad hands before and we’re not exactly in a field of daisies at the moment considering our mugshots are plastered in every damn government building. Multiple ends or whatever are always on the horizon. If they weren’t, then we would be out of work. Demons? Witches? Easy. It all stems from the same thing: evil and fighting evil is what we were raised to do. Don’t you forget that.”

“Now who sounds like Dad?” Sam said, smiling faintly. Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother. 

“That was a damn good speech. You should be more appreciative.”

“It could use some work,” Sam joked. 

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

* * *

Sam was two ice packs in by the time Bobby came home. 

“Kid is okay,” Bobby announced. “She went missing a few counties over. They’re looking for the parents now who also seem to have gone off the grid.”

“So either the witches killed her mom and dad or they willingly gave her up,” Dean realized. 

“Sounds like it,” Bobby agreed, disappearing into the kitchen only to return to the sitting room with a beer of his own. Sam and Dean were already a few in as Bobby joined them. 

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Sam asked. 

“No, but I know she’ll be alive and safe,” Bobby said. “Sheriff is going to take care of her. I don’t like the police, but Sheriff Mills is a good one.” 

“Why do they always have to bring kids into this?” Dean said, his anger from earlier bubbled up again. 

“Evil doesn’t allow for prejudice most of the time,” said Bobby, “everyone is at risk.”

“It’s a screwed up system,” Dean said, draining his beer. 

“It may be screwed up, but that’s life, boys,” Bobby said, glancing between the two of them. Dean looked at his brother.

“I feel a lecture coming on,” Dean said and Sam nodded in response.

“The two of you, I swear,” Bobby began. “Look, I’m grateful you two helped me with this one. It’s nice to know you two idgits aren’t completely incompetent when it comes to your job.” Dean pursed his lips in confusion, but stayed silent as Bobby went on, “This was a bad one, victim wise, but you handled it well. Your daddy would be proud.” Sam went to argue when Bobby shot him a look. 

“Now I know that you two are good, hell, you’re better than most of us more seasoned hunters, but you can’t be stupid. I don’t think much about warnings from witches, but that one...it’s gnawing at me. So, you two need to not be stupid.” Bobby leaned forward, looking at both of them, his face completely serious. Sam felt a weight press further on his chest as he felt the severity of their situation. 

“Bobby?” Dean asked after a moment of silence. 

“Sam, Dean,” Bobby finally said, “if the end _is_ comin’, we’ll face it together. Even if it’s coming at us from all sides. Remember you boys ain’t alone.”

However, at that moment, even amongst his family, Sam never felt  _ more _ alone and a part of him knew that he’d be the one to face what was coming and it wouldn't be with his brother by his side. Sam knew he had to face this evil head-on without an army.

He only prayed that, in the end, Dean would let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do feel like the ending was a bit rushed, but I was so close to abandoning this story and I really didn't want to. So It's a bit all over the place near the end, but I am happy enough with it. Probably not the best thing to say about your own work, but I suppose we are our best critics.
> 
> If you want to read more of my stories, I have another SPN story set in season one from this series. I also have multiple MCU fics that you can check out as well if you like! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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